


Her Precious Boy

by Inell



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Bad Decisions, Bad Parenting, Claudia Stilinski Feels, Confusion, Frontotemporal Dementia, Gen, Kid Stiles Stilinski, Mental Instability, Pre-Canon, Sick Claudia Stilinski, Terminal Illnesses
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-15
Updated: 2016-08-15
Packaged: 2018-08-09 01:08:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7781053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Inell/pseuds/Inell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles is hers, her precious boy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Her Precious Boy

**Author's Note:**

> Nonnie asked for: #7. “I dreamt about you last night.” - Platonic/Familial Stiles/Claudia Stilinski. All aboard the feels train! 
> 
> I hope this satisfies you!

The doctors keep doing tests, but they can’t ever explain anything. The tests are pointless. So far, it’s always inconclusive followed by whispering and terminology that’s difficult to understand.. Claudia’s convinced that the doctors are the reason she’s losing time and behaving so oddly because it never happened until she went to the hospital six months ago. 

Of course, John doesn’t believe her. He tries to talk to her, tries to tell her that she’s changing, but she doesn’t care to listen anymore. He’s smothering her. Always calling to check on her, hiding her keys just because of a small accident, driving by when he’s at work, as if she won’t notice his squad car patrolling. Maybe he’s the one who made the doctors do something to her? He watches her constantly now, trying to get her to take a bath all the time, telling her she needs to wash her hair more often. Claudia stares into the boiling water on the stove and realizes John’s trying to drown her.

When she hears movement upstairs, she stares at the ceiling with a frown. Someone’s in the house. John already left for work, so it isn’t him. The sound of water spilling onto the stove gets her attention, and she sees the packet of oatmeal lying there. Oatmeal. Suddenly, she remembers. It’s Stiles. Stiles is upstairs getting ready for school. That’s right. She’s making him his favorite oatmeal because she yelled at him last night. He was being loud and running all over the house, and it was too much. She didn’t mean to yell, but she couldn’t stop the angry words. Claudia frowns when she realizes she’s having more trouble stopping words than ever before.

It’s just, there are so many days lately when _Stiles_ is too much. Always asking questions and running around, constantly watching everything. Just like his father. Claudia looks at him sometimes and can hear the echo of her grandmother whispering ‘he’s got the devil in him, that one do’ because her grandmother always seemed to know that kind of thing. 

Stiles reminds her of the old woman; it’s in his eyes, always staring intently and distrustful of those around them. She thinks that maybe he’s got evil inside him, but she knows that’s not right. Her grandmother was pure and good, blessed by those who are no longer remembered. Claudia wonders if maybe they cursed her, a curse that carried over to her perfect innocent baby boy.

With a shake of her head, she focuses on making his oatmeal. It’s cold outside today, and she’s got the window open because the house is stifling when the heat is blaring on high. Her thin robe doesn’t provide much protection from the frigid air, but she prefers being cold because it makes her feel alive. “I wish it would snow,” she murmurs as she stares out the window and stirs the oatmeal.

By the time she hears the stairs creaking, she has finished making the oatmeal and has added cinnamon and fresh apples to it. An apple a day keeps the doctor away. She picks one of the slices out of the bowl and eats it herself, wanting to keep the doctors away for as long as possible. Stiles quietly shuffles into the room, his big brown eyes looking at her cautiously, and Claudia feels the apple getting stuck in her throat.

Stiles is _hers_ , her precious boy. He isn’t cursed. No, he’s just as blessed as her grandmother. What’s wrong with her? To think those horrible things about her son? The doctors have done something to her mind, making her think things that aren’t true. She won’t go back. Not even when John talks so charmingly and convinces her that something’s not right. She’s going to be okay. She has to be because Stiles needs his mommy.

“Are you okay, Mommy?” Stiles looks at her with those big brown eyes, and Claudia smiles at him, nodding her head as she puts the bowl on the table.

“I’m better than okay, poppet.” Claudia hugs him, feeling his small arms around her neck holding on tight. “I made you oatmeal just the way you like it.”

“Thanks, Mommy.” Stiles grins at her before pulling himself onto the chair. “Are you taking me to school today? Daddy said I should take the bus since he had to work early, but if you’re okay, maybe you can drive me? I hate the bus.”

“I don’t think so,” she says, brushing her fingers through his soft hair. He looks up at her, and she smiles. “No school today. You can take the day off. We’re spending the day together. Does that sound fun?”

“Yeah!” Stiles nods and shovels a spoonful of oatmeal into his mouth. “What’re we gonna do?”

“What would you like to do?” Claudia kneels beside him, still stroking his hair. “Your choice because Mommy yelled last night.”

“My choice?” Stiles’ eyes widen and he stares at her with his mouth hanging open. “We can do whatever I want? Really?”

“Yes, we can.” Claudia reaches over and gently closes his mouth. “Mommy’s sorry she yelled.”

“It’s okay. I’m fine.” Stiles swallows the bite in his mouth and looks down at his food. “I was being loud. You’ve told me not to run in the house before, but I forget sometimes.”

“I dreamt about you last night,” Claudia whispers, moving her fingers over the moles near his ear. The devil’s kiss. _No, not her boy_. He’s blessed. Not cursed. “You were all grown up and walking in the woods. There were wolves following you, but you weren’t scared at all. My brave boy was leading them. Sparks were coming from your fingertips, so much power. Is it good or evil, poppet? Which way will you go?”

“Go where, Mommy?” Stiles is looking at her, and she stares back, leaning forward until their foreheads are touching.

“You’re special, baby boy. Never let anyone tell you that you’re not.” Claudia kisses his cheek and pulls him into a hug, holding him against her. “Mommy’s scared.” She’s never in the dreams she has about him growing up.

“Don’t be scared. I’ll keep you safe.” Stiles places a sloppy kiss against her cheek, and Claudia feels tears stinging her eyes.

“You can’t always keep everyone safe,” she says, stroking his hair and looking out the open window at the gloomy sky. “Do you think dreams come true, poppet?”

“I dunno.” Stiles pulls back and looks at her. “Do you?”

“I don’t know, either.” Claudia wipes her eyes and stands up. “Finish your oatmeal, Stiles. Mommy’s going to change then we’ll go out. Did you decide what you want to do today?”

“Can we go to the ocean?” Stiles asks quietly, biting his lip and looking at the table. Beacon Hills isn’t on the coast, but they could be there before lunch. Stiles loves sitting on the beach watching the waves.

“Yes, we can,” she decides, rubbing his hair and smiling when he grins at her. “We’ll go to the ocean and go swimming.”

“It’s too cold to swim, Mommy,” Stiles tells her, eating more of his oatmeal.

“We’ll swim, Stiles.” Claudia tightens her grip on his hair. “It’ll feel good. It’s not too cold. Who says it is? We can swim if we want.”

“Okay, Mommy,” Stiles whispers, sitting very still.

“Good. Get your bathing suit on when you finish eating. We’ll go swim in the ocean, and eat seafood. Doesn’t that sound fun?”

Stiles nods his head. “Yeah, it sounds fun.” He looks at Claudia, eyes big and shimmering, and his lip trembles. “I love you, Mommy.”

“I love you, too, poppet. So very much.” Claudia touches his face. “My precious baby boy, blessed by those whose names have been forgotten. Just like your great-grandmother.”

“Does Daddy know we’re going on a trip?” Stiles asks, looking at his bowl as he gets another spoonful of oatmeal.

“No, and he doesn’t need to know,” Claudia says sharply. “Your daddy wouldn’t understand. He’d make Mommy go to the hospital, and you know I hate it there, Stiles. The doctors are making my head hurt.”

“I won’t tell Daddy,” Stiles promises, putting his spoon in the bowl and looking at her. “I’m gonna go get my swimsuit, Mommy.”

“That’s a good boy.” Claudia kisses his forehead and squeezes his shoulder. She watches him leave the kitchen before she puts his bowl on the counter. How could she think he was evil? He’s the only thing right--the only thing perfect--in her world anymore.

 

**Author's Note:**

> [Tumblr](http://inell.tumblr.com)


End file.
